


No You Boys Never Care

by Amnesiriasis



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, If you squint there might be IwaOi?, Implied Sexual Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-03
Updated: 2015-08-03
Packaged: 2018-04-12 18:33:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4490271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amnesiriasis/pseuds/Amnesiriasis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Dude, are you okay or are you drunk?”</p><p>“No, I’m funk.”</p><p>-or-</p><p>Hanamaki just wants to get over his 'frustration' problem and Matsukawa's searching for love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No You Boys Never Care

**Author's Note:**

> This is actually the first fan fiction I wrote so uhm yas?? (´•ω•̥`)
> 
>  
> 
> ((This is also a multi-chapter fic so despite it being first posted during the MatsuHana week it might still get updates next week/month.))
> 
> Enjoy! ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

Sensual, techno-beat music flowed throughout the dark, neon-lit room, LED lights with various colors dancing along with the beat of tune. The scent of sweat, booze and some smoke filled the room.

 

Hanamaki was sure his frustrations were getting more and more intense over the minute.

 

He needed to get over this “lack of affection” problem (or that’s what Oikawa said).

 

Wincing at the lights that passed by, tired eyes scanned the dance floor for “potential lovers”. People were dancing to the rhythm; couples (or total strangers) were inches away from each other dancing wildly - hell, others were already sloppily making out for goodness sake! Moving along, his eyes roamed to the less rowdy part of the club and oh God, Hanamaki swore those two on the circular couch were this near in doing the deed.

 

Oh the wonders booze can do to you. Hanamaki cringed. Thankfully a bouncer came and separated the heavily intoxicated couple. What a sight.

 

Bringing the cup of whiskey to his lips, he wondered why he was here in the first place, rolling his eyes, oh right, Oikawa. How that guy is so insightful, he doesn’t even know. It’s a real curse — not for Oikawa, but for him. The brunet easily guessed Hanamaki’s “frustration” problem and even offered him some help saying he “knows” a place and truth be told, Hanamaki thought for a brief moment that that place would be a brothel before shrugging and stupidly accepting the offer. Oh, he should’ve thought of the most common place to hook up (or get one-night stands).

 

Places that went on with adrenaline in the night.

 

Speaking of Oikawa, where is that guy? Hanamaki searched around the room for the brunet but he is nowhere to be seen.

 

“Talk about leaving your friend hanging,” he muttered.

 

Not that he was uncomfortable around strangers but he doesn’t really like to be the one striking up a conversation with someone. He’s just that bad when it comes to conversation starters (or Oikawa said so). Trying again, he looked around even more and even considered walking around to search for his friend and maybe give him a piece of his mind and — OH.

 

Hanamaki notices a stranger leaning on the wall opposite to his spot, how he missed sight of the mysterious stranger was a huge question on his part because OH WOW.

 

It must’ve been the smoke.

 

Or maybe the clothes he’s wearing. Jeez, does this guy have some fixation for dark colors? Dark blue shirt underneath a leather vest, black skinny jeans that perfectly hugged the man’s hips. Hanamaki must stay strong because, holy shit, it looks so good along the several chains attached to the side of the strangers’ belt. He must be the rough type. He could feel his throat growl in want, anticipation, and lust. The man’s half-lidded eyes further added to the electric feel Hanamaki’s experiencing.

 

God, he hasn’t felt this excited in all of his life (okay, maybe that one time his friends brought him several boxes of cream puff but that was a long time ago) and they haven’t even touched each other, his lust for the other clouding his thoughts. Kisses, touches, oh how electrifying the man’s touch must be, flaming sensations scorching his entire body, he wouldn’t care whether he’d get electrocuted or burned, rough loving is better than lonely nights or what his touch-deprived body kept on telling him. Hanamaki’s thoughts delving deeper and deeper, sensual and troublesome if he didn’t keep track of it, he doesn’t need an unwanted guest popping up when there’s no action going on… Yet.

 

Earnestly watching the other pull out what seems to be a cigarette, Hanamaki just couldn’t get enough of this man. ’Oh fuck, look at those arms, holy shit wow; I’d love to just-’

 

Shit.

 

Hanamaki couldn’t help but snap out of his sinful train of thoughts as the stranger looked over to his spot while puffing out his inhaled smoke before glancing somewhere else.

 

’… I’d love to get to know you.’

 

For a moment there, it felt like Hanamaki’s world went slow, he was immensely captivated, it felt like an eternity but it was just all in his head. For a mere second the stranger’s attention was on him, he was so sure of that, but it was nothing but a mere second, and it just offended Hanamaki so much. Oh, how I wished it was more than just a glance.

 

Mouth forming into a snarl, Hanamaki downs the whiskey in one go. He’ll need every bit of confidence he could get but there’s always that pit of anxiousness on the possibility of screwing up the plan.

 

Just be yourself, seduce him a bit, use some very good pick-up lines, remain eye contact and most of all, don’t forget to smile, Makki! Oh, and don’t forget to compliment the lucky dude!

 

Recalling Oikawa’s previous advice in regards to matters like these, Hanamaki isn’t very sure whether to trust his friends advice, but as they say, desperate times, calls for desperate measures.

 

Getting off his comfy seat (and maybe comfort zone as well), Hanamaki stiffly strides over to where the stranger is; mind heavy with all the possible scenarios that could happen, he could trip and fall towards the guy and that would be romantically cheesy but eh, or his anxiousness and slight drunkenness might cause him to barf up or black out and faint or god knows whatever embarrassing shit possible, or maybe spill a d— and he felt like he bumped at a human post.

 

Or, you could also be lost in thought and actually bump straight into your target.

 

“Hey watch it.”

 

Stepping back for a bit, Hanamaki apologized.

 

“Sorry, I was going there.” Maintaining eye contact, Hanamaki unconsciously points forward, referring to what’s behind the man.

 

What the fuck, what the fuck, I bumped into him, what the actual fuck, way to go me. Mentally cursing at himself for fucking up the first part, Hanamaki tries to focus on what’s happening right now and is entirely determined to not screw this one up now.

 

“You mean you’re going towards the wall behind me?” The man questioningly raises an eyebrow at Hanamaki and points to the wall behind him with his thumb. “Dude, are you okay or are you drunk?”

 

Fucking gestures, what the hell, Takahiro. WHAT. THE. HELL. Okay now, focus! Say: ‘No, I’m not drunk’ or maybe ‘I’m perfectly fine’.

 

“No, I’m funk.”

 

As those words left his mouth, all Hanamaki could do is stare blankly at the increasingly confused stranger and pray for Oikawa to just swoop in and save him for this mess of a conversation.

 

Okay, please let the ground swallow me up I screwed up or maybe please just let me go home, pack my things up and go to the mountains and live as a goat, I can’t do this anymore, like who the hell mixes up two different sentences? Goodbye, tell my family I love them, I am fucking done.

 

Hanamaki was caught off-guard when the stranger just laughed, clearly amused at Hanamaki’s failed attempts.

 

“You’re not very good at starting conversations are you?” The stranger chuckled.

 

“Excuse me?”

 

Wiping off the tears that formed, the man gestured to Hanamaki’s whole and entire being. “I really thought you were drunk but after that momentary look on your face I’m pretty sure you’re not entirely drunk.”

 

“Oh,” was all that Hanamaki could ever say. Sensing that this is may be a sign to continue what he’s supposed to do. In a sing-song yet flat voice, he asks.

 

“So, uh… You come here often or…?”

 

The man raised his eyebrow at Hanamaki’s question but dropped it and shrugs. “Hmmm… Maybe yea, a friend of mine works here so I kind of get free drinks and all.”

 

“Oh, that’s nice.”

 

“Sure is, what about you?”

 

Hanamaki leans beside the man, observing the crowd he shrugs, “My friend dragged me here and is now nowhere to be found.” He scanned the room for his friend yet still no signs.

 

“So you’re like his babysitter or something?” The other man snorts.

 

“Ew, no thanks.” Hanamaki rolls his eyes, “He’s worse when he’s drunk and I’m not in the mood for his drunken antics. Like he started screaming about how aliens exist and that anyone of the people in the room could be an alien. That poor kid he accused of being one. He started doing stupid interviews and shit, asking about their alien lifestyle, sheesh.”

 

“Yet you’re still here, unconsciously searching for him. How sweet.” A hint of amusement filled the man’s voice.

 

“It’s because he’ll keep nagging me on why I left him. No thanks.”

 

The man hummed in acknowledgement and continued to smoke his cigarette. Hanamaki eyed the man’s features and concluded that he’s really hot.

 

Shaggy, tousled hair which had an undercut on the lower back, ear adorned with a black, round earring and a few cuffs hanging on his earlobe and damn that jawline, dark eyes looking back at him…

 

Wait, looking back at him?

 

The stranger grins, “Like what you see?”

 

Hanamaki scoffs and leans back, glaring at the crowd, desperately trying to fend off the warm sensation surging to his cheeks.

 

“Yeah, I’d like to punch it.”

 

“Aw c’mon, don’t be like that.”  The stranger blows off the smoke; Hanamaki swats it off with his hand. Turning back to the stranger, He narrows his eyes at the cigarette lazily hanging off of the man’s mouth.

 

“I’d offer you a cigarette but…” the stranger grinned. “…you’re already smoking hot.”

 

Wow he wasn’t expecting that.

 

Blinking twice or thrice, he was trying to confirm if the man really said that but with that shit grin the stranger kept giving him he was sure the man flirted with him.

 

Two can play at that game.

 

“Smoking is hazardous to your health… and baby, you’re killing me,” he retorted with what seems like ‘is that a pick up line, I can’t really tell’ and Hanamaki can’t help the internal warfare inside him because wow, is that the best you can do?

 

The man’s grin widens even more at his somewhat failed pick-up line, clearly amused at his horrible flirting performance. Chuckling, the man just shakes his head slightly and leans back at the wall, giving him a look of slight bemusement and a mocking smile.

 

Trying again, he just blurts out words in a futile attempt to beat this man in their flirting game.

 

“My doctor says I’m afraid of commitments… Want to prove him wrong?”  He wasn’t sure but there was a flash in the other man’s slightly widened eyes, was it anticipation, hope or desire?

 

But, yet again he might’ve just imagined it.

 

The man inches closer to Hanamaki and he places a finger under Hanamaki’s chin, pulling him slightly close then mutters, “If I were to ask you out on a date, would your answer be the same as the answer to this question?”

 

Holy shit, he’s so close — wait, did he say ‘date’?

 

Stammering on his words, he asked, “What question?”

 

Pointing towards the crowd, “Is that the friend you’re looking for?”

 

In the distance he saw Oikawa, all drunk and flirting badly with one of the bouncers in the club who looks like he’s so confused with what he’s experiencing with a drunken Oikawa. Seriously, just when you’re about to reel in a good catch, your friend who swore to help you get laid ends up being the reason why this plan isn’t working and if that isn’t ironic and extremely frustrating, Hanamaki doesn’t know what is.

 

He gave the man a look as if to convey ‘How did you know?’ to which the latter replied with a shrug and pointed to the drunken man who seems to making an embarrassment of himself as the crowd just looked and laughed.

 

“Damn it Oikawa.” He mumbles a short excuse and perhaps a farewell to the stranger then rushes to where his drunken friend who was just harassing a poor bouncer. He grabs the affectionate drunk by the collar and mumbles to the very confused bouncer and leaves.

 

Half-way out of the bar, he realizes that he still doesn’t have the man’s contact number and hell- even his name. He tries to make Oikawa stay put at the bar nearest to them to which the brunet slurring what seems to be a yes, or maybe it’s a no, he doesn’t even know as he hurriedly went back to where he left the stranger.

 

Please still be there, please still be there.

 

And miraculously the man is still there, casually smoking. He makes his way up in front of the man and says in probably the most calm and confident manner in this whole train wreck of a night.

 

“I seem to have lost my phone number. Can I have yours?”

 

Holy shit. That must have been the smoothest pick-up line that I managed throughout tonight.

 

“I don’t know, can you?”

 

Hanamaki just looks blankly at the man, a dead pan expression written all over his face.

 

“Haha, just kidding, give me your phone.”

 

They exchange phone numbers and he stared at his phone’s screen.

 

“Matsukawa Issei,” he reads aloud.

 

“Hanamaki Takahiro.” The man, Matsukawa, replies with this shit eating grin that Hanamaki just wants to punch and kiss at the same time.

 

“HEY, MAKKI, HEEEY — WAIT MAKKI WHO THAT???”

 

Cringing, Hanamaki turned to see a wobbly Oikawa who just looked at him and then to Matsukawa, a ‘knowing smile (or smirk)’ forming.

 

“Oh, you Makki, you!” Oikawa slings an arm around Hanamaki’s neck and leans onto him. “You didn’t tell me you,” he then wiggled his eyebrows suggestively toward the strawberry blond, “wink-wonk already?”

 

“Didn’t I tell you to stay put in the bar?”

 

“Eh, the bouncer was gonna call a bartender and will get me bar out of the kicked.”

 

‘Whatever, let’s just go.” Turning to Matsukawa, “Well, sorry you had to witness that, see you.”

 

“Sure, take care, you and your alien friend.” He snickered.

 

“I AM TELLING YOU THEY ARE REAL!! I JU—“, Hanamaki placed a hand over the ranting alien-fanatic drunk and began dragging him away only to pull off his hand when the brunet tried to lick it.

 

“DON’T WORRY, HE’LL CALL YOU!”

 

\- - - - -

It took them long before they could find an unoccupied taxi and it was a pain for Hanamaki support the wobbly, unstable and giggling drunk who was currently getting all touchy-feely with him.

 

‘The fuck did he just smack my ass?’

 

He was just too tired to deal with the brunet and besides, a drunk Oikawa is very dangerous and needs to be dealt with cautiously; the flirty asshat can turn into a melodramatic crybaby in one snap or event and he neither has the strength nor the tolerance to accompany the latter.

 

Another 30 minutes has passed before they found a taxi to bring them home-- or at least the apartment where he’s staying at the moment because Oikawa’s place is somewhat far from his and it would be troublesome for him to do so.

 

‘It’s already 3 am, thank God we don’t have work tomorrow..”  Sighing, he looked over to his suspiciously quiet friend.

 

He was wondering why Oikawa wasn’t his usual drunk self; boisterous and even more annoying, and even more why is the brunet slouched over the door of the taxi?

 

Observing his friend, he notices that his fingers were tapping on the screen of what seems to be something like his phone. Feeling his pockets, he could only conclude that his friend took it while getting all touchy-feely with him.

 

Groaning, he reached over to the other and tried to grab the phone only to get a dull kick (or push) in the stomach. He was getting even more annoyed, so he pulls the foot and Oikawa sprawls between the taxi seat and floor. Muttering an apology to the taxi driver who glared at them, he took the phone from the stuck brunet and checked the screen.

 

Message Sent to ‘Mattsun’:

> Did u kno dat the human bod is 65% watr? And i’m getting tirsty 4 u ;) if u know at i mean ;*

 

“WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK OIKAWA?!”

 

He fumbles over his phone trying to send an apology to Matsukawa when his phone vibrates.

 

Message Received from ‘Mattsun’:

> Haha, missed me already? ;)

 

Typing an apology, he just couldn’t help but feel very tired from all these happenings.

 

Upon reaching his apartment, he paid for the fee and apologized for the ruckus and struggle made and carrying the unconscious troublemaker up to the 4th floor and straight to his room.

 

Dropping Oikawa on the couch, Hanamaki makes two or three steps before lying down on the carpet-covered floor and sprawling over. Limbs tired from carrying his drunken friend.

 

Glancing over his phone, he notices a message from Matsukawa.

 

\- - - - -

 

“And then you texted him the whole night? Or morning?” Oikawa drank his coffee. “So that’s why you were sprawled out on the floor clutching your phone.”

 

Grunting in response, Hanamaki narrowed his eyes.

 

“Why the hell aren’t you hung over?”

 

“Of course someone as beautiful as me doesn’t get hung over, Makki! It is my duty to stay fabulous every minute of the day!”

 

He just rolls his eyes at what he heard.

 

“You wound me too much, Makki.” The brunet pouts, “And also, wow, I thought you’ll be all cha-cha real smooth through that flirting but wow, much internal screaming.”

 

“What the fuck is ‘cha-cha real smooth’ and shut up, I could’ve not ‘internal screaming’”, he gestures his fingers as if emphasizing the screaming part, “if only I weren’t having this frustration problem. It was getting on my nerves.”

 

“Uh huh, keep telling yourself that honey.”

 

“Just shut it, but anyway I think I made progress over the text messages.”

 

Oikawa hums in acknowledgment whilst sipping his coffee, “I know, I read it while you were on the state of ‘dead-to-the-world’ and I must say,” Reaching over to him, Oikawa places a hand on his shoulder and dramatically gestures the other over his heart, “I am proud, son.”

 

“I am done with you, get the fuck out of my apartment.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hoho, this very inspired by the fact a friend of mine tried to use pick-up lines on us but failed miserably and tfw you mix up two words/sentences in front of the crowd. ლ(ٱ٥ٱლ)
> 
> I would like to thank [the_anime_cafe (ao3) ](http://archiveofourown.org/users/the_anime_cafe) / [ kireikai (tumblr) ](http://kireikai.tumblr.com/) for being the beta of this fic and [ basedmoniwa ](http://basedmoniwa.tumblr.com/) for supporting me during the creation of this fic! Thank you guys very much! ヾ(*´∀｀*)ﾉ


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